


We won, Mr. Stark

by orphan_account



Category: Endgame - Fandom, Marvel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter=sad





	We won, Mr. Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings!//Attempted suicide
> 
> Also Endgame spoilers

“We won Mr. Stark.” Peter approached Tony with growing concern, his voice cracking and tears filling his eyes.  
“We won Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was desperate as he tried again, pain racking his voice.   
“We won, you did it sir, you did it.” The tears building on Peters eyes broke, and started flowing down his cheeks. His vision was blurry but the light was still there. The blue light that reminded Peter of safety, of warmth and of home. It was still there. Mr. Stark was going to be okay. But then the light dimmed a little, still there but dimmer, a little lifeless. Peters eyes welled up with a new batch of tears, pushing the old ones down his face. Making his vision blurry again. He stumbled forward, he needed to get to Mr. Stark. He was getting closer, he was almost there. He could see Mr. Starks face through the tears. Mr. Stark needed to be okay. When he was almost close enough to reach him though he felt warm arms bring him away from Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark was the constant, Mr. Stark was where he needed to be, but the light glowing on Mr. Starks chest was getting further and further away. He felt himself get passed off to another person, he felt himself get pulled into another pair of arms. Another hug. It wasn’t the same as Mr. Starks though, he’d been in Mr. Starks arms what just felt like minutes before. Now the man was lying somewhere far away from Peter. He felt a strong but shaky hand keep his face turned toward the person's chest. Mr. Rogers. Peter thought. He heard a voice, Mrs. Potts he thought.  
“Friday?”  
“Life functions critical.” Peter whipped his face around, twisting his neck at an awkward angle to see Mr. Stark. The man's eyes were closed, and he could see the life slowly fade out of his body.  
“Mr. Stark!” Peter shook violently his voice horse and choked with tears as he yelled his mentors name. “Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!” He kept yelling, dangerously frantic trying to escape Mr. Rogers arms. He kept yelling that name until he saw the blue light go out. The blue light that had been a reminder of safety for Peter. It just went out. From happiness and warm embraces, to nothing, to cold and to distant and to gone.  
Peter convulsed frantically, sobbs flowing angrily from his eyes and mouth. The arms holding him pulled back a little to look at him. Peter couldn’t tell though, all he could feel was the tears rolling down his cheeks and the ghost of Mr. Starks hug on his arms. His eyes were burnt with the image of the arc reactors light going out, he couldn’t see the eyes of the man holding him, how they were also laced with tears. All he could hear were the repeats of “Life functions critical.” Coming out of the robotic suit and the almost silent whisper of “I am Iron Man.” Peter screamed, it was a horrible sound, broken and beaten. It cracked and it was covered with his tears, he stopped screaming very suddenly. He collapsed in defeat, the arms bracing him weren't ready and Peter crumpled to the ground. Distantly he felt a hand on his back and he could almost hear silent whispers. He shook with his arms around his legs and his cheek pressed to the cold dirt. He could vaguely hear Karen say something about his heart rate. He seemed to sit there forever, light changing as people moved around. Eventually he passed out, tears still falling from his eyes. His sleep was horrible though, he went in between sleep and wake, watching different versions of Mr. Stark dying play out.  
When he finally came to his eyes were raw and his throat was dry. He looked around, white walls, white bed. Hospital. He thought, then he remembered, the painful horrible truth. Mr. Stark. Peters throat tried to produce a scream, a cry anything. All that came out though was a strangled whisper. He heard a voice come from beside him.  
“Are you okay Peter?” The voice was familiar, too familiar. A voice he’d never thought he’d see again. He couldn’t trust his ears so he looked over to see the man with his eyes, and there he was. A concert tee sitting comfortably over his shoulders, no scratches or cuts or anything that should’ve shown from the battle. Peters cracked lips curved upwards into a full toothed smile that went all the way to his eyes. He sprung out of the bed to give Mr. Stark a hug he collapsed onto him but instead of warm arms and cotton fabric he felt his arms swipe through air and his chin hit the cold sterile wall.  
“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark please come back!” Dry, empty screams scratchily escaped Peters throat. Mr. Stark was gone, Mr. Stark had left, he couldn’t come back to Peter but maybe Peter could go to him. Peter turned around to find an IV tube dangling where it had disconnected from his arm. As he limped over to it rough footsteps pounded on the floor outside the wall. The door slammed open into the wall as Peter wrapped the IV tube around his neck. Natasha and May ran through the door, Mays face drained of color and she let out a shriek mixed in with a sob. Nat ran over to Peter and ripped the tube out of his hands she threw it over her shoulder and pulled Peter into her arms letting him sob into her shoulder before leading him over to May.  
“Peter. Peter. Oh god Peter.” Peters eyes refilled with weak tears that spilled onto Mays shoulder. “Peter it’s okay, you’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote part of this a week ago real late at night and I wrote the rest now so it’s kinda funky. I’m sad I’m considering ignoring the presence of endgame


End file.
